This Side of Paradise
by Amaira
Summary: The war had pitted everyone and everything against each other. Now, while darkness is rapidly enveloping the world, two enemies find each other again. Draco/Ginny
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

Everything had become dark.

Night could not be differentiated from day, and all the candles in the world could not illuminate the sky. They had predicted that his power would not spread beyond England, but it did. The whole world now lay at his feet, but the war was still raging.

The Order had fewer numbers compared to his armies of death eaters, but they still had hope, though they watched that speck of brightness in their world disappearing as well. Most called them foolish, others called them mad, but it all came down to one fact: most had fallen to Voldemort not because their sheer shortage in numbers, but because they had long ago given in.

Prostitutes, murderers, rapists, and every criminal or low life imaginable now roamed freely on the streets. There was no safety. Too many left home in the morning and never came back. Locks were of no use and the forbidden curses were always used and heard everywhere. If not a servant of the Dark Lord, one could easily become the target of a bored Death Eater. People disappeared in the middle of the night, most never to be seen again. Even the Muggles knew about the war, probably because their population had gone down drastically.  
No one bothered meeting others, for why try to bond when the person could die the next day? Love was gone. There were no young couples strolling in the parks sharing intimate glances, nor were there elderly couples enjoying the twilight years of their life together. Too much sadness had passed to allow such joy in their world. Each day passed in fear and tragedy. Women and children hid at home too frightened to leave the protection of their home. Every hour that passed, family members worried for the lives of loved ones, dreading to hear the body count and the name of each corpse being announced. Yet they chose fear and cowardice over fighting boldly, which was possibly why at the closing of Hogwarts, so few were in Gryffindor.

In this dark and desolate world, she lived. She had once been carefree, innocent, naïve. She had once smiled, laughed, cried. But now, emotion seemed foreign. With each day, their cause seemed less and less believable, and the call of the dark became more and more appealing. Their goal seemed impossible, unreachable, so much that it had become a distant memory. Possibly the only reason they carried on was not because of the tiny glimmer of hope, but because of routine. They had been fighting for ten years; why stop now, when everything was so familiar?

At the beginning of the war, she had been an optimist and a romantic, believing the very idea of fighting for the righteous was glorious. She soon realised her foolishness. There was nothing beautiful or poetic about war. Each day she saw crying women and men kneeling at the battle grounds, searching for loved ones who had not survived. Each day, she would watch those grieving people slowly take a step towards insanity. Each day, she saw her group of friends slowly diminish. Some of these friends were not dead, instead they had turned to Voldemort. Not only her friends, but everyone's friends and family did the same. She stood and watched families breaking apart, old friends fighting each other, the world completely broken. Her family had changed as well. Her many brothers who had once joked and laughed had now turned into walking zombies. Once their eyes had been bright and filled with life, but now they were empty and dead.

The war had pitted each person against a familiar face. She was no exception. War had done so with her and her love as well.

Yet, even with all this chaos and madness swirling around her, she chose light over darkness. She hadn't let her faith sway even when worlds came crashing down on her. Pain and desperation had only made her stronger, and did not break her. It hadn't always been like that though. At the time she was still studying at Hogwarts, when the war had just started, she had nearly given in. If not for the strength of her family, she might have collapsed. It was not because she believed in the Dark Lord, but because he departed for the other side. Now he was darkness, and she was light. They were enemies now, in the truest meaning of the word.

----

On the other side of the country, he sat. His manor was dark but grand. It was empty except for the occasional nervous Death Eater who reported to him. Ten years had passed, and he had worked hard to reach the status he held now. The most trusted servant of the Dark Lord and second-in-command. He had established a reputation for being heartless and cold, able to inflict pain and take away lives without blinking an eye. At his hands, hundreds of both Death Eaters and Order members were killed. Some feared him even more than they feared Voldemort himself. The reason was simple. Voldemort actually showed rage while he, on the other hand, always wore a blank and cold expression. No one knew when he was furious or tranquil, his emotions were never present.

Hardly anyone knew about his years before he joined the Death Eaters. Some whispered that he had eliminated all who had known him when he was younger, others said that his past concealed a secret too great to let out. Gossip was usually nonsense, but in this case, it proved to be true.

Years had passed since he had last saw her, but he had not forgotten the flaming red hair, or his burning hate for her. She had betrayed him. He had revealed all his secrets, bared his heart, but she had walked away. Just the very thought of her made his usual cold blood boil.

Unbeknownst to either, fate had indeed a sense of twisted humour. In these dark times, two long ago lovers would meet again, and here begins their story.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

_Come with me_, he had whispered.

----

"Ginevra."

Ginny glanced up to see the tired face of Remus Lupin. He appeared more drained than after a full moon. In the years that had passed, the world had evolved and everything else just followed. No longer did anyone call her 'Ginny', for it was reserved for joyous times and those had faded into memory. 'Ginevra' seemed to reflect the gravity of what her life had become — serious and solemn.

"Yes, Remus?" she inquired, wondering unenthusiastically what he was about to tell her. Possibly a body count, or maybe…

"There is another mission for you."

Ginny sighed.

----

"Draco." Voldemort's high voice hissed. Unlike his early years as a Death Eater, Draco no longer shook in fear of his master. He sometimes fancied that if he were not afraid of the Dark Lord, then there was nothing and no one he feared. Life had indeed changed for him. Soon after Draco became Voldemort's right hand, Lucius Malfoy mysteriously disappeared. Not one person, either out of fear or indifference, asked what happened to the senior Malfoy.

"Yes, Master?" he responded.

"I have an assignment for you."

----

It was a small village in Andalusia. The glittering Mediterranean Sea bordered it to the south and everywhere flamenco could be heard. In the midst of the brutal war, it almost seemed as if this place were untouched by the horrors. She had been here before… long ago, before she was forced to choose sides. Even though it was a Muggle village, she felt more at home and at ease here than anywhere else. While the bright sun shined down on the village, she sat in a small bar sipping her red wine. Her back was towards the door, so as to allow her to view the endless sea through the large windows. Soft strumming of the guitar strings floated in the air and the warm ocean breeze swirled around, further calming her. In a world that was so cold, this was the only warm place.

"You've lost love before." A motherly woman set down a glass of water on the table.

"I'm sorry?" Ginny asked, not understanding what the other woman meant.

"I've seen enough women and men here to know who has been torn apart from their love. You're one of them," the woman smiled before returning to the kitchens.

"Yes, yes I am," she murmured before tilting the glass back for another sip.

Then the screams came.

People ran amok but none escaped. The door was completely blocked by a group of men and women wearing black robes. Now that the Dark Lord was so powerful, it was no longer necessary for Death Eaters to wear masks to hide their identity.

Ginny never moved from her spot. She sat calmly at her table sipping the dark liquid and watched the gentle waves. That's how he saw her.

The sunlight was reflected off of her red hair, making her hair more of a golden color. Although he couldn't see her eyes, he knew they were honey brown with specks of gold. He felt fury bubble over seeing her again, but at the same time he also felt an unexplainable tightening in the vicinity of his heart.

She knew he was watching her. She knew that his ice grey eyes would now be a steel color, burning with hate as he stared at her. She knew that his white blonde hair would contrast with the midnight black of his robes.

He took a few steps closer to her before suddenly storming out of the bar. All the remaining Death Eaters were shocked, but they did not dare question his actions. "Sir! What should we do with-"

"Leave now!" he bellowed at the Death Eater, frightening the man into silence. One by one, each Death Eater left the bar. They felt something so different from darkness there and they were thankful to leave.

Finishing her glass of wine, Ginny finally stood up. "Obliviate", she muttered, and all the Muggles forgot the entire incident. As she exited the small bar, conversation struck up again between the people and the soft music of the guitar started playing again.

----

He'd had the perfect opportunity. She was right in front of him; he could have so easily killed her, just like what she had done to him all those years ago.

As soon as he had escaped that village, the one that he had gone to many years back, he Apparated back to Malfoy Manor. Sitting in his dark study, he drowned many glasses of firewhiskey, trying to rid himself of the cruel memories that were attacking with a vengeance. Throwing back another glass, he hoped to make all the vivid memories fade away and disappear, but they wouldn't leave him.

"Sir?" A nervous Death Eater knocked at the door.

"What?" he snapped.

"I-I-I, I mean, w-we were w-w-wondering-" The other Death Eater was soon cut off when Draco grabbed his wand and performed the Cruciatus Curse.

"Next time you talk, don't stutter, you worthless rat," he snarled. Watching the other Death Eater writhe brought some comfort to Draco since it took his mind off of that village, at least for a few moments. He finally let Marcus Trent fall to his knees, wheezing for breath and shaking from pain.

"Now, what were you saying?" Draco asked in a sneering voice.

"We were wondering if y-you wanted us to destroy that village as p-planned," Trent replied, trying his best not to stutter.

"No one touches that village," Draco said in a quiet voice. This sent Trent crawling into a corner, hiding. Unlike Voldemort who screamed at the Death Eaters, Draco's calm voice sent shivers down everyone's spine. It was probably because those quiet words were paired with a glare so cold and murderous, it could freeze fire.

"Y-Y-Yes, sir!" Trent squeaked in a tiny voice before backing out of the room.

Draco was surprised at himself for making that order. Why not destroy that village? There were too many reminders of his youth, too many reminders of her, but he just couldn't bring himself to demolish that place. Just like he couldn't kill her.

----

_"Ginny, Potter won't win! Leave with me, I'll protect you from everything," Draco told her frantically._

_"I can't, Draco," she whispered, looking at him with tears threatening to spill over. He stared at her for a minute, before asking, "Is that your final decision?"_

_"Yes." Her eyes couldn't meet his._

_Draco's eyes turned frigid and he immediately let go of her, as if she were burning him. Without another word, he turned and mounted the broom that would take him away from her forever._

She woke up in the middle of the night. For the past few days she had been having the same dream, nightmare actually, over and over again. Those old memories she thought she had long ago buried were all rushing back. They had started when she arrived at the village.

Picking up her discarded robe, she pulled it on before stepping out on the balcony of the hotel. It was the only hotel in the village, the same place she had stayed many years ago. Leaning against the railing, she wondered why she hadn't rejected the mission. She could have told Remus that she couldn't face the past - he would have understood, but she had not uttered a word. Possibly, she had lied to herself. Maybe she did want to live in the memories again. What harm could there be in wallowing in the past, a time that had held so much laughter and warmth, so different from now?

She remembered their budding relationship, when he was a sixth year at Hogwarts, and she a fifth. He had warned her there were no promises, telling her he could leave her at any time. Neither of them ever dreamed that it would be she who would leave him in the end.

When they had become public about their relationship, both the male and female populations of Hogwarts cried, but Draco's and Ginny's parents cried more. The Malfoys had looked down their aristocratic noses at her, while the Weasleys were appalled and afraid that their only daughter was being handed over to the wolves. Neither cared what their parents thought, each believing that their love could withstand anything and everything. Too quickly did they realize how short innocence lasts, and how quickly reality takes over.

The night he fled Hogwarts, true conflicts started. No longer was it just a family feud but a full-fledged war between two different forces. After he had flown away from her, Ginny completely changed. She didn't smile, didn't laugh and barely ate. No matter what her brothers did to try and cheer her up, she never responded.

A year after he left on the train, the first battle of the never-ending war started. Ginny served as a nurse, tending to the wounded. While watching the ground littered with lifeless bodies, she had caught a glimpse of him shooting curses everywhere. Although she couldn't see the face hidden by the horrid mask, something in her recognized him immediately as that boy she once loved. Knowing that he didn't see her yet, she had hid behind the pile of dead Aurors. It wasn't that she was afraid of his rage; it was because she couldn't face the man she felt she had betrayed.

Ten years had passed since she had seen him. Although they met last night, she still hadn't seen his face or he hers. How she longed to glance upon that face again, to watch his ever cool expression disappear at her lightest touch. Only fantasies, she knew. Never again would he look at her as if she were the very air he breathed, the goddess he cherished.

Bowing her head, the pale moonlight shone down on her hair. Unlike the sun that turned her hair into a brilliant golden red, the moonlight dulled the rich color. Turning, she headed back into the room, and hoped the night would pass dreamlessly.

----

Looking up at the same pale moon, Draco's white blond hair shone from the reflected moonlight. Instead of detracting from his beauty, the night made him seem like an angel carved of the most flawless marble.

He also remembered their young love. How foolishly naïve he had been then. He had believed that their "love" could have lasted through the inevitable war, hoping that she would stand by his side. Instead, she had bolted just as the times grew rough. A small part of him knew that he should not have demanded that she leave for the dark with him. That small part also acknowledged the fact that he could not have left the Death Eaters to join her either. But this was always defeated by his self-righteousness and indignation. He had loyalties to his family, to the Dark Lord, to his very name. He couldn't allow the long-respected name of Malfoy to be smeared.

Of course his loyalties to his family were now gone. He had long since eliminated his father and his mother was in an unknown mental institution. Even the sadistic Bellatrix now bowed to him, fearful of him. The merciless removal of his family from his life, along with the Order, was possibly to avenge the paradise he was robbed of. His parents had disapproved of his relationship with Ginny and the Order seduced her from him. This was the sole driving force of his cruelty, and maybe if he weren't separated from her, he might be just another nameless Death Eater. He wouldn't admit it now that he killed because of her, for she meant nothing to him. Nothing.

_"Tonight is your second task, Draco. Don't fail again."_

_Draco looked down at the shivering man. Oliver Wood, he remembered. Feeling his stomach churning, Draco shakily took his wand from his pocket._

_"I can't do this, not cold-blooded murder. I can't," he thought wildly. Hoping to find some type of motivation, he suddenly remembered seeing Wood smiling with the Weasley family in The Daily Prophet a few days ago._

_"Avada Kedavra!" He pointed his wand at the other man's heart and said those two forbidden words._

_He had felt fury so bright knowing that others were laughing with her, while he would never be allowed that luxury_ again. Never did he take a closer look at the newspaper pictures, to see that Ginny was the only one who never smiled.

Years had passed, and loneliness was a constant companion for him. Night after night, day after day, only death did he see. Many nights he sought companionship in the arms of different women, hoping to pretend for those brief hours that she was with him again. He never admitted to these feelings, believing that they weren't there, persuading himself that he still hated her.

An expert at seeing through others' lies, he was blind to his own. He had heard far too many lies, but most were from himself.

----

The warm sun was rising, shining ever so beautifully on the shimmering water. She sat on the white sand with her legs pulled in and her chin resting on her knees.

_He held her tightly as they sat admiring the sunrise. She was curled up next to him, and he rested his head on hers._

_"I wish we could sit here forever," she murmured sleepily. Knowing she might feel cold in the morning breeze, he wrapped his own jumper over her shoulders._

Shivering in the cool morning air, there was no one to wrap warmth around her now.

----

He watched from the cliffs surrounding the beach. She only had on a light summer dress.

_Fool_, he thought. Turning around, he slowly made his way down the cliffs.

----

She knew he was there, though he had made no sound. A bond had formed when they were younger, and it still had not been broken.

"I could kill you right now," he told her, standing directly behind her.

Smiling wistfully, she did not turn back to face him.

"I know."

Her cool manner infuriated him. It was as if she were brushing him aside as some random nuisance. Grabbing her by the arm, he Apparated her away with him to his manor. Although his touch had not been gentle and a bruise would form the next day, she uttered no cry of pain.

It was colder in England, dark and bleak. Her thin clothes served as no shield from the biting wind, but she did not shiver. Dragging her into the dungeons, he looked back at her. She looked dead.

Throwing her into one of the rooms where yesterday a prisoner had died, he looked at her through the bars. He had no intention of keeping her in this disgusting prison cell, but he wanted her to know that he could do whatever he wanted with her.

"You'll begin work tomorrow morning." Turning briskly, he walked off.

Sitting in the corner of the musty cell, Ginny pulled out a piece of parchment and a small quill. Tearing off a small piece of the parchment, the paper magically grew back into a full sheet. Shaking the quill twice, ink appeared on the tip and she started writing.

Folding the parchment in half, she reached into her pocket again and took out a tiny box that suddenly sprouted two small wings, almost like a snitch. Placing the parchment into the box, she set it free out the window. Watching it fly until it was merely a speck and then completely vanishing from sight, Ginny sighed and tried finding a more comfortable position in the foul room. Sinking down, she thought of what Lupin would receive in a few moments.

_Here starts the first day of my mission at Malfoy Manor._


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

* * *

Her name was Drusilla Scarletfeld. 

At first sight, everything about her could be summed up in one word, perfect. From her flawless skin to her friendly smile, it seemed as if she were an angel who had fallen from the heavens above…at least that's what people thought when they first met her. Not until they were confronted by the true Drusilla, did they know how horrifying she really was.

Unlike Draco, who's feelings were forever concealed by his cold expression, her deadly thoughts were masked by her dazzling smile. She could commit cold blooded murder with the same smile plastered on her face, and she had done so many times. She was a constant companion to Draco, ever since eight years ago. Many wondered what about her, other than her beauty, captured the interest of the infamous Draco Malfoy for that long. All knew that Draco had beautiful women walk by on a daily basis, but something about her captivated him for nearly ten years. None dared to ask, because although they did not fear her as much as they did him, she still filled their hearts with dread.

They called her the "Smiling Black Widow".

* * *

"Yes my Lord?" she bowed low, her dark red hair, so much like Ginny's, fell forward, forming a curtain around her face. 

"Drusilla, I have some news for you. Something that might just arouse your…curiosity," the Dark Lord rasped. Lifting her head slightly, her smile became just a bit slyer. Seeing that he had piqued her interest, he peeled his lips back in a cruel sneer. His plan had just rolled into action.

* * *

Three hours later, a calm-looking Drusilla walked out of the dimly lit ballroom. Her usual smile was still firmly in place, but it had chilled by many degrees. 

_Nothing I can't handle, and if I play my cards right, this little complication just might help us._

Quietly walking toward her chambers, she faded into the darkness.

* * *

Ice cold water woke Ginny. A guard had poured an entire bucket of murky but freezing water on her as a wake up call. Shivering, Ginny wrapped her arms around herself. Glancing outside, she saw the sky was still dark and wondered what time it was. 

"Get your skinny arse up!" the guard ordered her in a harsh tone. Trying to stand up, she slipped on the pool of water which had quickly frozen in the icy environment. Growling, the guard grabbed the whip that hung at his belt, and brought it down on her back, leaving a red welsh on her ivory skin. Arching her back in pain, Ginny bit her lip to keep from screaming.

"Don't pretend to fall again to waste time. Now MOVE!" Struggling once again to stand up, Ginny crawled out of the dank dungeon and followed the guard out. Outside of the dungeons, there was a long hallway filled with half-burned candles illuminating the otherwise completely dark corridor. Pushing her forward, the guard followed from behind.

They walked for what seemed like hours, down long winding hallways and shifting staircases. Many times Ginny wondered if they were going in circles, since everything looked the same. Finally, the guard ordered her to stop, before tapping on a large oak door.

"Come in," a voice called. Stepping into a room even dimmer than the hallway, the guard immediately bowed low. Seeing that Ginny was still standing upright, he gave a forceful yank on her hair, causing Ginny to fall to her knees.

A squeaking sound came from the far end of the room, and Ginny presumed it was probably a chair. Squinting, she tried seeing who was at the other side, but all she could make out were shadows.

"My eyes have accustomed to the darkness, but yours probably haven't still, have they…Miss Weasley?" a voice asked. She recognized that voice, it had once belonged to, "Snape." She said. As soon as the word was out of her mouth, a hand struck her across her face leaving her cheek burning with pain.

"That was for your impudence-" the guard was cut off by Snape.

"You know the consequences for insubordination, Garber," he warned the guard, before turning to face Ginny. "I must apologize for his behaviour, he hasn't been trained well.

"Now, Miss Weasley, you have been called here today to make a simple choice," Ginny merely snorted, knowing that no choice they offered her would be simple. Her eyes had adjusted more or less, and she could now see Severus Snape a bit better.

"As I said, the choice is quite easy, a yes or no question actually," moving to a bookcase next to his desk, he picked up an old leather bound book.

"I knew about your relationship with Mr. Malfoy years ago in Hogwarts, and even though years have passed, I know you still have certain feelings for him. No, Miss Weasley, don't deny it." Snape suddenly stopped, and turned to the guard again. With a wave of his hand, the guard obediently stood up and walked out of the room.

"We are the only two who know about this meeting, as I have just cast a memory charm on Garber. Miss Weasley, I need your help, and in exchange I'm willing to let on a few secrets." Rolling her eyes, Ginny wondered what kind of fool Snape mistook her for.

"Whatever you're trying to get at, Snape, save it. I'm not that gullible."

"Miss Weasley, you have every right to not believe me, but at least hear what I have to say." Seeing that although she was reluctant to trust anything that came out of his mouth, she was still listening, he started again.

"Mr. Malfoy has risen quite a bit in ranks among Death Eaters since the last time you two met. This you probably know already. Yes?" Taking her silence as confirmation, Snape nodded.

"The Dark Lord is somewhat…jealous that only Mr. Malfoy seems to elicit fear of such great magnitude from the other Death Eaters. He fears that Mr. Malfoy might someday try and replace him. Voldemort does not take threats lightly and will not tolerate anyone who poses as one," pausing Snape turned to look straight at her. "In other words, he wants Draco removed." Looking intently at her face to see if he had caused her emotionless face to change at all, he was disappointed to see that her face was still completely impassive.

"Why are you telling me all this?" she asked coolly. Snape flipped open the old book he had been carrying, and turned it to a page where a familiar photograph was pasted. The picture was of her and Draco in old times. He was smiling down tenderly at her while they sat on the beach gazing at the setting sun.

"Because you're the only one who can convince him to leave before he's terminated."

"You expect me to believe this story?" Ginny snorted. "You and I both know that if you were caught betraying the Dark Lord, death is imminent. I don't believe a coward like you would risk such a thing," Ginny told him.

"Draco is like a son to me. Of course I'd make sure nothing were to happen to him," Snape replied curtly.

"And even if that were true, what makes you think I could do anything? I'm sorry Snape, there are just too many loopholes in your story to be believable. Besides, you forgot one important point. If Draco Maloy were killed, it would not affect me. There is nothing between us. What was there long ago is dead."

"You say that with such confidence, Miss Weasley, but I believe you less capable of so to believe your words. You know, I once loved too, and I know feelings die hard," Snape informed her.

"How touching," she said sarcastically. "Unfortunately, I still have no interest in being a pawn in your game." Snape gazed at her thoughtfully, before drawing a conclusion.

"You have changed, Ginevra, and not for the better." Snapping his fingers, another guard came into the room and guided her away, none too gently, back to that dank cell.

Back in the dungeon, she discovered that Lupin's message had arrived. Opening the small piece of parchment, she saw his neat writing.

_Keep us informed._

Sighing, she scribbled down an exact account of what had happened today with Snape, before setting the little box flying away. Lying down, curled up in a ball, she thought of the one person who delighted in haunting her for the past years. Draco Malfoy.

Maybe she had lied to Snape, telling him what they had before was dead. She knew that Draco's feelings for her were probably long gone and buried, but hers…she was still trying to convince herself that nothing more was there.

Ten years had passed, she shouldn't still feel anything. Her traitorous heart told her otherwise. Even so, she would not allow this mission to be jeopardized by something as trivial as emotions. No, this was the turning point. If she did what she was assigned to do perfectly, this war would be over. Her family, everyone's family and friends were counting on her, and she couldn't fail. Swearing herself to remain stoic and calm, she promised that she would sit in the cell or do whatever horrendous work they had planned for her, and she would most definitely not go near Draco Malfoy.

Staring out of the barred windows, she saw a small box flying towards her. Realising it as the message she had sent off, she stood up and reached out to take it. Unfolding the parchment, she read the few words on the page.

_Take up his offer, do not reject._

Staring wide eyed at the small piece of paper, she wondered if Lupin had lost all his senses. He was one of the few who knew about Draco and her relationship. He was overestimating her, putting too much faith in one person. But orders were orders, and she had learned quickly that when issued, they were to be obeyed.

"Guard!" she yelled out.

* * *

From the shadows, another woman stood. Staring at Ginny, she smiled a smile so cunning and cruel that even the walls shivered.

Knowing well that the trap had been laid, she turned and melted into the shadows.

* * *

Knocking on a huge wooden door, Ginny stood out side of the master bedroom, Draco's room. Just as she was about to open the door, it swung open from the inside. An exotically beautiful woman wearing a tiny dress and a satisfied smirk, strutted out.

Instantly, Ginny knew exactly what the other woman was doing there, and she was glad she hadn't witnessed it. After the woman walked past her, Ginny stepped into the dark room. She could still smell the sex in the air.

He was standing by the windows, wearing only silk pyjama pants. With his arms crossed behind his back, he looked like an emperor gazing at his empire. Clearing her throat to signal her presence, he didn't even look back at her.

Although she expected him to be surprised that she was no longer in the dungeons where he had left her last night, he did no such thing.

"You didn't think I would wait for you, did you?" he bit out. Confused by his words and shocked that he was ignoring the fact that she was no longer in a cell, stopped her from replying immediately.

"What are you talking about?" When she finally replied, her tone was monotonous and completely void of emotion. He turned around after hearing her cold tone, looking directly at her with those frigid, steel grey eyes.

"I moved on. Moved on to different women, better women." His voice was just as cold as hers, possibly colder. Moving closer to her, he ran his fingers through her red hair, which had lost the brilliance it had held only a few days ago. Ginny visibly flinched at his touch, which earned a cynical sneer from him.

"I don't much care," she told him. Although she couldn't move away from him, she tried her best to distance herself from him by staring right through his body, not looking up into his eyes.

He hated how she avoided his eyes, how she preferred to look straight through him, but he kept anger out of his voice.

"Your cold manner does not suit you, dear Ginevra. You were born a burning flame," he mocked. "Shame isn't it? You've lost your fire."

"That's all thanks to you and your bloody Death Eater clan," she spat back, her blood boiling. How many times had she heard from whispering gossipers that she was no longer the smiling passionate girl she once was? Now to have the perpetrator mock her was too unjust for her not to respond.

"Well I guess the little spitfire, hasn't completely lost the fight. Tell me _Ginevra_, how does it feel to be on the losing side now? After knowing that you were offered a chance to win, to have everything," he taunted, wearing a cold sneer on that otherwise perfect face.

"You call this everything?" she scoffed, still not looking at him. "You're even more deluded than I thought."

"Deluded? Then you must be referring to the years I spent with you," he retorted cruelly. Ginny worked hard to keep her temper at bay and not reach out her hand to slap him. She still had to complete both her own mission and Snape's little plan. It would be of no benefit to her if Malfoy killed her now.

"I was ordered here by Snape, he-" she started to inform him.

"If you don't think I know what's going on in my own Manor, than you have yet much to learn," Running a hand through his hair, he related her task to Ginny. "The Dark Lord is moving Narcissa back from the asylum. You will serve as a constant companion to her. I believe you'll find it interesting," he snorted.

"You laugh at your own mother?" Although she never cared for Narcissa, it still disgusted her that he could treat his mother with so little respect.

"I have no interest in anything that is not of use to me," he replied.

* * *

After she left, Draco padded barefoot into his bathroom. The elaborate bathroom was completely black, from its black marble bathtub to the dark granite countertops; everything was in that dismal colour. Turning on the faucet, freezing water poured out. Taking no heed of the low temperature, he cupped the water in his hands and splashed some on his face.

Looking into the mirror, Draco watched blankly the water droplets dripping down his face. Assigning her to take care of his mother was the only thing he could think of that wasn't grotesque. He was beginning to doubt that bringing her back to the Manor was the best idea. When she was far from him, he could hate her and curse at her, but when they were here together…it seemed as if the inner rage died down.

A few moments ago, when he had touched her, it seemed as if all he had wanted, was to revert back to the old days. Days where they laughed together, and when his caresses did not cause her to flinch.

When she was thousands of kilometres away from him, he knew what his goal was. He wanted to find her and cause her the same pain she had inflicted upon him, that was his ultimate purpose in rising among the ranks in Voldemort's Death Eaters. He had achieved his goal, or at least part of it, but what now did he want? What now was his motive in this life? His hate for her had propelled him, but now he didn't know if what he felt was hate.

Grabbing a towel, he wiped the remaining droplets of freezing water from his pale skin, shivering. For the first time since they had gone separate ways, he felt the cold.

* * *

Narcissa Malfoy had changed greatly in the last ten years. Her once perfectly fixed white blonde hair now lay limp on her frail shoulders. The once youthful and classically beautiful face had aged and only contained a few similarities to the past exquisiteness. Her once bright eyes had dulled and become dreamy, as if she were in a different world. Sitting up in bed, she was looking through old photo albums, when Ginny entered.

"Mrs. Malfoy? I'm assigned here to be your companion," she told the other woman. Looking up at the younger woman, Narcissa tilted her head.

"My son has a lover who looks just like you. I don't like her," Narcissa told her matter-of-factly. Ginny smiled dryly, whatever they said about Narcissa's current condition, she obviously still had a very intact memory, even if she did forget that Ginny was no longer Draco's girlfriend.

"I see, Mrs. Malfoy, why don't I go pour you a glass of water." As Ginny was about to leave for the pitcher on the table, Narcissa stopped her.

"No, I'm not thirsty. Come here," she patted the side of her bed. "I want to show you a picture."

"I took this photograph from my son's room a few years ago," giggling like a little girl, Narcissa related her brilliance to Ginny. "He's been searching frantically for this, I don't know why." Turning the picture to show Ginny, she stared intently at the redhead.

There in the photograph was a laughing Ginny, twirling around in a pearl white wedding dress. She remembered it with painstaking clarity and detail. It was Christmas at Hogwarts years ago.

_Shedding his invisibility cloak, Draco stepped into the brightly lit girls' dormitory. Other than Ginny, no one else was in the room. _

_She smiled and beckoned him to sit next to her beside the Christmas tree, which was overloaded with ornaments. Obeying her, he dropped down next to her. _

"_Which one should I open first?" she looked at the huge pile of colourful presents, wondering where to start. _

"_Open this one," he told her. Pushing forward a large box wrapped in gold tissue paper. _

"_Is it from you?" she asked, casting a sideways look at him._

"_No, it's from the Bloody Baron," he teased. Swatting him on the head, she picked up the box, and started carefully removed the wrapping paper. After waiting a few moments, Draco became impatient._

"_You can just rip it open," he told her, demonstrating, by moving his hand in ripping motions. _

"_If the stoic Draco Malfoy is excited for something, than I must be slow about it," she replied, and just to spite him, she went at an even slower pace. _

"_Ginny, if you don't hurry up, I'll open it for you," Draco said irritably. Raising a brow, Ginny tore open the paper to reveal the most beautiful white wedding dress. Pearls and lace decorated the edges, while the neckline was dotted with diamonds. _

"_This is…oh my…Merlin this is a wedding dress!" she breathed. "Draco?" Turning to look at him, she saw that he was wearing a silly grin, not commonly seen on his face. _

"_You're going to marry me, Ginny." Staring at him, she gaped for a minute before gaining her senses._

"_What!"_

"_Not now of course, but wait a few years after our graduation."_

"_Oh…oh," she now wore the same silly grin he did._

"_No matter what your answer is, we're still getting married. But just to satisfy my curiosity, will you?" _

"_Yes!" she shrieked. Suddenly a splendid idea came to mind, and she madly dashed off to the bathroom, telling Draco to fetch a camera. _

_Putting on the dress, she twirled in front of him as he took a picture. Leaning on him later, she smiled contentedly. _

"_As a promise," she told him. _

"_Of what?" he asked. _

"_That we'll live happily ever after, and of my love for you forever."_

Holding the picture in her hand now, she wondered just how long forever lasted.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Just a question

Do you think Ginny should trust Snape, or do you think he's up to no good?


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"I was a beautiful woman when I was young, wasn't I?" Narcissa smiled nostalgically at the old photographs resting on her lap.

It had been three weeks since Ginny was first assigned to her post as Narcissa's companion, and in this time she had warmed up to the older woman far more than she ever thought possible. When she and Draco first started dating, Narcissa had tormented her at every waking moment. She had loved telling Ginny that her precious son had no use for a commoner like her. Now, ten years later, Narcissa sat before her as a broken woman. The once calculating attitude had disappeared, fading into dreaminess.

"Yes you were, Mrs. Malfoy," Ginny agreed. Narcissa grinned childishly, reveling in the delight that someone thought she was beautiful.

"You know, I had many admirers at that time. Lucius was one of them, the wealthiest and most suitable one, but I didn't love him. I loved another," Gazing at the photographs fondly, she seemed as if she were in a far off land, in her own little world.

Just as Ginny was about to respond, Narcissa started again.

"I loved him very much, but he was poor…had absolutely nothing. The Blacks have always been rich, I couldn't marry him., especially not after Andromeda ran off with that Mudblood. Father was furious. I didn't dare anger him further, so I agreed to marry Lucius. I later learned that he didn't have any feelings for me, and believed I was just some trophy to be put on display. He took on many lovers, I was actually surprised when I became pregnant, considering how little he touched me. But now he's dead." Giggling maniacally, Narcissa took out a laced handkerchief, dabbing at her mouth.

"Well, he's the lucky one. He escaped this hell, this hell my own flesh and blood created for us." Her laughter stopped, and she once again had that hard glint in her eye Ginny saw so many years ago.

"I HATE YOU!" Narcissa screamed. "I HATE YOU, HATE YOU, HATE YOU!"

After the power of her outburst, she immediately collapsed, sobbing. Reaching out to pat the blonde woman, Ginny empathized with her. Narcissa's words of hate were not directed at one person, but at many. She hated her late husband because he robbed her of both her love and her youth, leaving her a life filled with emptiness. She hated her son, because she had loved him, but he discarded her now that she was of no use to him. But most of all, she hated herself. She hated herself, for allowing these two people to torment her so, for leaving her in this state.

This burning fury that Narcissa felt, was an emotion Ginny knew well. It ate away at her, killing her, but she didn't know how to stop it.

Patting the older woman's back, Ginny stared out the window, wondering if her life would be destroyed like Narcissa's.

---

_It had been raining for a week._

_She had sat in this spot for over two days, freezing and hungry. The tattered blanket she had found on the bench, hung over a branch, creating a makeshift tent. Shivering, she tried wrapping the thin sweater tighter around her, but the rain soaked clothes served as no shield from the biting wind. _

_Although she was tired, she dared not sleep, knowing those haunting memories would take over as soon as she shut her eyes. If only the rain would stop, maybe everything would return back to normal. Maybe, she could go back to her warm home, and sit in front of the fireplace. Maybe she could see her mother bring her a cup of hot cocoa, and listen to her father tell her stories of old times. Maybe she could see her four year old brother try to fly his toy broom. But she knew, as hard as she wished for those things to happen, they never would again. _

_The worse day of her life, the day she lost everything she held dear, was a day that was foggy in her memory. She had been invited to go see the _Weird Sisters_ perform. She had been ecstatic, squealing at the thought to meet her favorite band. Her mother had laughed, watching her daughter jump up and down in excitement. Her father just shook his head, and her brother had toddled over and planted a big wet kiss on her cheek. _

_She couldn't remember what happened after she Apparated away with her friend to the concert, but she did remember everything that she saw once she returned. She remembered it in painstaking detail. _

_That night even before she opened the door to her house, she knew something was horribly wrong. The lights were all off, when usually, her parents always left at least a few candles burning. Entering, she saw that her quiet home was completely destroyed. Yelling for her parents, she rushed to their room, only to find her mother and father dead. She froze in the doorway, wanting, hoping, and praying that the scene would go away. That she could open her eyes, and find her parents standing up, telling her that it was all a very bad joke. But they didn't. She had no idea how her brain was still functioning, but she suddenly thought of her brother. Screaming his name, she couldn't find him anywhere, until she checked under his bed. There, her four year old brother, this innocent child, this boy who loved unconditionally, lay dead. _

_She had pulled him out, and held him in her arms, rocking him and crying. She had cried and cried, not knowing what to do. Her family was dead, murdered in cold blood, leaving her completely alone in this world. Suddenly, in the midst of her agony, she heard voices. Harsh voices discussing what to do with the bodies. Knowing that the murderers were back, she did the first thing that came to mind. She Apparated outside, carrying the lifeless body of her little brother. _

_Watching from the bushes, she saw a group of men arguing. _

"_Death Eaters, we should have killed them long ago," one man with long hair spat. _

"_Those no good pieces of filth had no right to live," another man agreed._

"_But, did you have to kill them? You could have given him the Dementor's Kiss, or just have locked him up in Azkaban for life. He had a family. A wife, a son, and a daugh-"_

"_You've always been too kind Arthur," the man with the long hair argued. "They deserved to die. The whole lot of them, But where's the daughter? I didn't see her."_

_Death Eaters? Were they talking about her parents? No, her parents were law abiding people; they neither joined the Order nor the Death Eaters. They were good people. Good people. Her eyes clouded over with both hatred and confusion. Who were these lying murderers?_

"_The Order needed them dead. I don't care if he said he reformed or not, he- they, are the reason why some of our best Aurors are dead!" A round man declared. _

_The Order? Aurors? They were the Order of the Phoenix, the men who were supposed to help good people like her family, how could they do this to them? Betrayal sliced at her heart, and hot tears stung her eyes. _

"_I say we burn the house, destroy the evidence…" She forgot the rest of the words the men spoke, but she remembered that her house had went up in flames. She watched as the orange, yellow, and red flames consume the place she had grown up in. She watched the place that had held so many dear memories, disappear before her eyes. The men had left, and she stood up, still holding the body of her brother. _

_That was when it began to rain. Slowly, the flames ceased, dying. Walking into the burned down house, she made a decision that broke her heart. Walking into her parent's room, she placed her brother on the bed. Picking up a burnt blanket, she slowly covered his small body. _

"_I'm so sorry."_

_Those three words meant more than anything she had ever said. She wanted to apologize to him for not being there, for not protecting him. She wanted to apologize for leaving him here. She wanted to apologize for so many things, but most of all, for not being able to say a goodbye or an "I love you" to him. _

_When she walked away that night, she promised her family and herself, that she would make those men pay. _

_But now, huddled up in her light clothes, freezing and starving to the point of delirium, she doubted she would be able to complete that promise. Just as she was about to collapse, an angel passed by her, at least that's what she thought. Dressed entirely in black, his white blond hair stood out terribly. He stared at her, or more specifically her hair. _

"_Ginny…" He reached out, but immediately pulled back, shaking his head. Just as she thought he was about to leave, he reached out his hand again, but this time grabbed hold of hers and pulled her up. _

"_Come with me."_

---

Drusilla stared into the Pensieve, a small smile on her lips. Unlike most times, this was a genuine one, but it quickly dissipated, as if it were never there. Her lips once again curved up into a sly smile, knowing that what goes around comes around.

---

"Tell me Ginevra, how's my mother?" Draco asked, stabbing into a piece of steak.

She had been called to his dining room tonight for what supposedly was dinner. When she arrived, she realized although it was dinner, she wouldn't be eating. Instead, she stood opposite him across the table, watching him eat.

"She's fine, considering how you're treating her," she bit out, still appalled at his attitude towards his mother.

"Really? Considering that everyone else would have thrown her out because of her madness, I believe I have been more than generous to her," he smirked, taking a sip of his red wine.

Sneering, she bit her tongue to hold back a retort.

"If this is all you want of me, than I believe I shall go back to my post." Turning, she headed for the door.

"Did I say you could leave yet?" Although his voice was smooth, she could hear the steel beneath it. "Sit down," he ordered, pointing at the seat opposite him.

Once she took a seat, instead of talking to her, or cursing her, he continued eating and drinking, acting as if she weren't there. This went on for another thirty minutes, causing Ginny's blood to boil with indignation. Did he believe she _liked _watching him eat such a large and rich meal, when she her stomach was growling?

Just as she was about to scream at him, he spoke.

"Was your promise true?" he asked softly, cutting up his potatoes. His question was so quiet, that for a second, she thought it was her imagination.

"What promise?" raising a brow, she wondered what he was plotting.

"That you would love me forever?" he raised his head to stare at her. His serious question shocked her into silence, her mouth hanging open.

Should she tell him the truth? That her feelings for him were still there, even though she had tried unsuccessfully for years to bury them? Or did she brush him off, snort at the notion that she could or would still love him.

Before she could answer, he averted his gaze and shook his head.

"Forget it. Forget that question. You may leave," he told her in that emotionless voice of his. His vulnerability dissolved, replaced by the hard shell he had built over the years.

Nodding her head, she left the room.

---

What on _Earth_ possessed him to ask her that question? Was he turning into his mother? Going mad? Mentally slapping himself, he cursed his stupidity. Yes, he had dreamed of asking her that question many times, tossing and turning at night, wondering what she would say. But in the morning, rationality would take over, telling him that he could never ask her.

Before, he had believed that his mistake in bringing her here was wrong, now he knew that this was a disaster. What was wrong with him? Maybe it was the alcohol; the wine was doing this to him. Yes, it was wine. Picking up the bottle, he threw it against the door.

He didn't ask because he actually _needed_ to know her answer, it was simply curiosity. He had always prided himself in his quickness to question, so of course he wanted to know if she still had feelings. It was just curiosity.

Cursing, he stabbed the knife through the table, before storming off to his room.

---

Walking down the long halls, Ginny had plenty of time to think about what happened at dinner, or actually Draco's dinner. His question puzzled her. Why did he ask her that? Did he really care about her answer, or did he just want to confuse her? Maybe it was some kind of bait for her that would hook her into his trap. Did he want her to let her guard down, so he could easily attack? Hundreds of questions filled her head, each seeming plausible.

He had confused her when they were in Hogwarts, he had confused her when they became lovers, and he confused her the most now that they were enemies.

---

**Author's Note: **Any thoughts on Drusilla's past? Just wondering. Hope you enjoyed this chapter.

**jessica**:thank you very much, and sorry for the long wait. :)


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"Harry?" Hermione asked worriedly.

Harry did not respond, but instead continued to stare into the sky.

"Harry?" she repeated.

This time, although he turned his face to meet hers, his expression was blank. Ever since Ginny had been sent off on the mission, Harry always seemed to be completely unfocused. After his and Ginny's disaster of a relationship ended, he had taken on the protective role of a brother, loving her platonically and unconditionally. While she had always been larger than life, he still knew she small and fragile. What if they threw curses at her and tortured her? What if she didn't have enough to eat? What if she were-

"She'll be fine," Hermione told him, reading his mind.

"Mmm," was all Harry managed to say. He knew others said she would be kept alive because she had information, he knew what they could do to her and still keep her alive. Bloody Hell! Why had they sent the smallest woman into the middle of hell?

Putting a hand on his shoulder, Hermione looked sympathetically at her old friend, before leaving the room and giving him time to think. The war had indeed a toll on everyone of the Order, and Harry wasn't the only one out of sorts. All the Weasleys were worried sick about their youngest daughter, as was Hermione. Everyone had already suffered enough losses before Ginny left, and to offer the youngest redhead to the Death Eaters was the last straw. Lately, within the Order, there had been countless conflicts. Lupin was the target of many of the Weasleys' wrath, blaming him for having sent out Ginny. The plan that had been so meticulously planned out beforehand lay in shambles, and it seemed as if Ginny's leave and possible death were completely useless. No problems were being solved, and they almost were just waiting to be defeated. Today, after much deliberation, they had finally put the plan back into action and everyone was preparing for what they hoped would be the final battle.

Walking up the stairs to the tower, Hermione laid aside her worries about the Order's capabilities, and instead focused on the dilemma her closest friend was in. She remembered Ginny's affair with Draco. Most everyone else had tried to forget the "You-Know-What" time that Ginevra Molly Weasley had lost her mind for a while. Hermione had always been a practical woman, and she didn't see the purpose in trying to forget anything. It was part of history, and it was not erasable. She recalled the night her friend came to her house crying uncontrollably and cursing life. After two hours of consoling and hot cocoa, Hermione had finally calmed Ginny down enough to understand what happened.

Ginny had always been so passionate about life and so utterly romantic that it hurt Hermione's heart to see the next few years of her young life waste away in pain. Now that she and Draco Malfoy were in close proximities again, Hermione could honestly say she had no idea was going to happen. She knew that one of Ginny's most admirable qualities was her loyalty, but would it lie with the Order, or with her heart that to this day Hermione knew still belonged to the blond man in her past.

* * *

Letting out a small sigh, Ginny looked inside the filthy room. Apparently, it was a storeroom for all of Draco Malfoy's belongings he had collected and tossed over the years. She had been ordered to clean it.

There were cobwebs in every corner, and dust stacked so high everywhere that it looked as if someone had poured it on.

Sneezing, she wondered where she was to begin. Deciding to begin in the furthest corner where tons of furniture and books were arranged haphazardly, she thought that going from the messiest to the relatively clean area would be easier.

She had been here for more than three months, and she felt abandoned. For the first few weeks, she had sent out a message to Lupin every chance she got. Now, she simply gave up. What was the point when she put her neck on the line to scrawl a few notes, and he didn't even bother to send back a response?

Moving to a servant's room at Snape's orders, at least she was no longer treated like a prisoner anymore but more like a servant, which in the world of purebloods was not much better.

Dusting the bookcases, she wondered how in Merlin's name she was to finish this task. Even after she ridded the shelves of dust, there was just an equally large pile of dust sitting on the floor. There was only a tiny window at the side, and little light streamed in from there. Therefore, she couldn't open the window to let some fresh air into the room or push out any dust.

Coughing, she knelt down to collect some of the potion and spell books lying around. Trying to pick up all of the books at the same time was a terrible idea, since some just toppled off and clattered to the floor. One slid under a bookcase, and she had to again bend over to retrieve it. Reaching under, instead of finding the book, she found a tightly bound package of letters. Blowing off the dust, she was about to place it on the shelf, but stopped abruptly when something caught her attention.

Where the receiver of the letter's name was written, in very neat writing there were two words written on it. Having spent a great amount of time in Hogwarts studying with Draco, or at least they tried but always ended up snogging, she recognized that it was his writing. What shocked her was not that Draco Malfoy wrote letters, but that he actually addressed it to _Ginevra Weasley_. Untying the string, she carefully opened up the letter on the top of the pile. Its date told her that he had wrote it two weeks after their fateful parting.

_My dearest Ginny,_

_I wanted to tell you that I am sorry deeply regret our parting of ways. I hadn't meant to force you to leave with me like that. I had hoped you would stop me and tell me not to leave. But I see now that I was the one who was a fool inconsiderate to want you to give up everything for me. I hope you will forgive me we can remain on amiable terms. _

_Love,_

_Draco_

Shocked, Ginny didn't even bother to carefully open up the next letter, instead she ripped off the envelope and tore the letter out. This one was written a month after the last.

_My dearest Ginny,_

_I cannot believe that I am again writing to you. It's laughable that I'm yet again picking up this quill and writing these words down. You cannot fathom the agony I am in. Each day, we train and this means using each one of the Unforgivable Curses on muggles brought in. I am drained. We have curses shot at us to test our reflexive skills, and even are tortured to build up tolerance to pain. I need you my dear. I need to know that there is a reason to this life and that I will eventually climb out of this abyss._

_Love,_

_Draco_

The next letter was only written a day after the last.

_My dearest Ginny,_

_I hear them screaming. I can't bear it any longer. Their pleas keep me awake at night, I have their faces etched in pain, scorched in my mind. It frightens me. They say Death Eaters should feel no pity, only a driving force to do their masters' orders, but I don't believe in his cause anymore. Hell, I never did. It was family loyalty, to withhold the Malfoy name. _

_If I do manage to fall asleep, I dream about you, I think you are the only one who keeps me sane. I wish I could take a sleeping potion just to be with you, if only in my dreams. By now, I know I might never send out these letters, but just to pretend that you will receive them propels me to live. _

_I love you my darling._

Sinking to her knees, Ginny read on and on. With each letter, it seemed as if he were channeling more emotions into them. He wrote everyday, and he told of what he thought about each day that passed. He said he felt as if he were becoming colder and colder with every coming day, but that he could only retain that cold composure after he wrote these letters.

By the end, Ginny was in tears. After her endless hours of sobbing over him, believing him either indifferent or hateful of her, he had still loved her. Regret cut through her heart that she had wasted ten years of her life apart from him and dying inside. The last letter had been dated to over eight years ago, after the first battle of the Order and the Death Eaters. If only she hadn't given up as soon as he flew off, she might have saved them both. He had hated the Death Eaters at the time and had even begged her to run away with him. If she had sought him out instead of being proud and refusing to allow him to see her cry over him, she might have happily spent ten years with him. Eight years ago he had still been a boy. A boy who although concealed his feelings effectively, still had his emotions intact. The man that stood before her now seemed to have cut himself from his emotions. He was cold and ruthless, able to commit the acts he had loathed years ago in a blink of an eye.

It was all too late, and that was the most heartbreaking thing to her.

But what she did not know, was that when she was weeping on the stone tiles, a tall blond man stood in the doorway with a wistful look upon his face. Turning, he left as quietly as he had come.

* * *

**A/N: **_Wow, sorry about the incredibly long lapse. I can't believe I actually began writing again. This year has been horribly busy for me, so I couldn't do much writing. Sorry again._


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Slumped on the ground with the pile of letters scattered around her, Ginny wondered what she would do now. What she could do after reading those letters. Rubbing her swollen eyes, she desired desperately to sink down into a bed and sleep until she forgot all about the last few hours, or if she were lucky enough, the last ten years.

She was so tired. She had never felt this drained.

After Draco had flew off to his future as a Death Eater, Ginny had spent the next few weeks and possibly months, crying in her family and friends' arms. During that period of time, Ginny had felt immeasurable grief. She wasn't crying over the end of a relationship, since she had witnessed and been through plenty of those. Instead, she was devastated because of the circumstances surrounding their break-up. After she had cried to the point where she just couldn't summon up anymore tears, she channeled her sorrow into anger. She fought for the Order as a nurse, pulling long hours and did whatever the meditwitch required. When the hospital needed nurses in the middle of the night to tend to wounded Order members or civilians, they could always count on Ginny to show up, regardless of whether or not she had worked that entire day. Though her brothers, Harry and Hermione were the ones fighting in the frontline, they nevertheless hovered over Ginny, as they helplessly watched her eat less and less and work more and more. If anyone ever dared to question her or tell her to slow down, the haunted look that she cast them was enough to keep anymore comments at bay.

Though she became a mere shadow of the girl she had previously been, she still believed wholeheartedly in their cause, preaching to anyone who would listen about the goodness that the Order wished to bring about. She declared that everyone in the Order was incorruptible and fearless, repeatedly telling those around her that the light would always defeat the dark. However, to those who paid careful attention to her, they wondered whether her words were to convince them or herself. Hermione, who was considered the cleverest witch in the Order, quietly believed that Ginny was desperately clinging to the belief that ultimately they would triumph because she could not bear the thought that she and had Draco had been separated for a lost cause. But since Hermione was intelligent, she knew never to voice this thought and chose to simply observe her friend.

When the Order's numbers gradually diminished, and the number of loyal and alive members were so few that they had to resort to defense tactics instead of offense, Ginny's anger and fire withered until she simply felt numb. She was so numb to all the pain, to all the deaths, to all the grief. She had watched enough death and torture to last her a life time. After her encounter with Draco at the battlefield where she watched him cruelly murder, she felt completely cut off from her emotions.

She was numb up until the point of Lupin's request of her. Then, all the old pain roared back to life. She wanted to fight again. But now, today after reading all these letters, which brought the suppressed regret bubbling back up to the surface, she didn't know what she wanted.

Carefully picking up the letters, Ginny stacked them one on top of each other and wrapped all of them together with a piece of string. Then, she dusted off her skirt and pushed herself off of the ground and pressed the stack of letters fiercely into her chest.

She had better get back to work, lest Snape come to check up on her and find her holding the letters, Ginny thought.

Making her way back to the servant's quarters, Ginny was in a dream-like state. She was too deep in her own thoughts to care about what was happening around her. She didn't hear the guards call her names, she didn't hear the howling wind roar through the windows, and she definitely did not hear the whisper soft steps of another woman following her.

Should or, more truthfully, could she continue on with her mission? Could she betray Draco again? But, if she did not finish what she had set out to do, did that mean that she was disloyal to her family, her friends, the Order? How could she choose between the two?

Rationally, she knew that she must remain faithful to her cause. These were the people who protected her, the ones who were depending on her, the ones who had given up so much to see that the world did not fall into the hands of Voldemort. She couldn't turn her back on them. But, her heart told her something very different. After many years of denying the truth, she finally had to admit, she still loved Draco. Loved him with an intensity that overpowered all her other emotions and thoughts. She had left him once because of duty, but what did that result in? The corruption and destruction of a young man who had a chance at redemption, as well as the erosion of her own former self. Didn't she deserve to follow her heart for once?

But even if she chose Draco over the Order, would Draco choose her over the Dark Lord? This thought stayed with her for the entire night.

---

"Severus," a sweet voice called out.

"Yes, Drusilla? What is it?" Snape replied.

"Well, I was wondering if you were free this evening?" Drusilla asked.

"Well, no, I have no plans," Snape responded warily. Unlike Draco and Voldemort, Snape had never liked Drusilla. In fact, to tell the truth, he quite loathed her. But Severus Snape was not a fool. He knew that Drusilla was a menace, and he believed wholeheartedly in the adage of "keep your friends close and your enemies closer."

"Lovely, then I'm sure you wouldn't object to supper? Say, around seven? I wish to speak to you about some recent…issues."

"I'll see you at seven then," Snape replied coolly.

"Perfect," Drusilla smiled before turning away.

"I look forward to our conversation tonight," she called over her shoulder. Snape could feel a shiver work down his spine at the musical laughter that drifted down the hallway.

---

Draco sat completely disoriented in his study. He hadn't expected her to find those letters. He had buried them away long ago, because he didn't want to see evidence of his youthful foolishness, but they were too sentimental, at the time, to be thrown away. Thinking back, he should have burned them.

Rubbing his hands over his weary face, Draco had too many questions and thoughts passing through his mind. Why did she cry when she read them? Did she regret her decision? Was she still in love with him? How did she feel now? Did she see him differently? But most importantly, how would he handle this situation now?

Damn it! He was not supposed to care. She was supposed to not care. Draco had thought that he had made peace with his fate and was making the best of what life had handed him, as the last ten years could attest to. He didn't need to have his emotions in fluctuation again over Ginny Weasley. He had wasted so many years over her, and he didn't need to spend anymore time on her. Maybe he should send her away. Far away. Then he could resume his life. Everything would return to normal. But he didn't know if that was he wanted anymore.

Draco hated uncertainty. There was no place in his life for uncertainty, since it sometimes meant the difference between life and death. Standing up, he shoved his chair against the wall and made his way out of his study and down the winding corridors into the servants' quarters. As he approached the dingy place, he immediately winced. He hadn't known that the servants' quarter was so foul. Not that he cared about any of the other servants, but he was worried about a certain redhead. What if she grew cold in the night, did they have thick blank-

Draco shook his head. It didn't matter if she froze down here. She didn't mean anything to him.

As he grew nearer to the last door in the hall, Draco's heart started quickening. It was just about hammering when he soundlessly opened the door.

Ginny was sitting on a shabby stool in front of the minuscule window, staring sightlessly into the midnight sky as tears streamed down her face. At the sound of the door closing, she whipped around and a fleeting look of shock passed through her eyes. After a moment of awkward silence, she blinked away her tears and stood up.

"Draco, I…I didn't know," she whispered, clasping her hands around her arms and rubbing them.

Draco couldn't look at her, so he turned his head to look at the tiny bed sitting in the corner. He noticed that the threadbare quilt was much too small and would definitely not keep the cold out from the dark and damp room. When he finally reined in his emotions, he turned back to her and sneered, his cold façade back in place.

"For what, Weasley? And when did you start calling me by my first name?" he drawled.

For a moment, Ginny looked taken aback at his attitude.

"I saw your letters, and I…I guess I just want to apologize," she said in a low voice. "I never knew that you-"

"Suffered? Yes, well your desertion seemed to have played a number on me at the time," Draco interrupted. "You made your choice, Weasley. You chose to leave me. You made your bed, so now you're going to have to lie in it. There is no room for regrets. What, did you think that now the Order is in shambles you could come back and 'seduce' me into taking you back?"

"I never-" Ginny began indignantly.

"I told you, I've moved on."

"Then why did you come here tonight?" Ginny asked softly.

Draco was startled. Why did he come down here tonight? It obviously wasn't because he still cared for her. He had just wanted to get some answers. Yes, he wanted answers.

"I just wanted to know why you were crying over my letters?" he finally answered. "They shouldn't have meant anything to you."

Ginny gave a weak smile and licked her chapped lips.

"To hell with my pride," she murmured. "I read your letters and remembered the boy I loved. I was reminiscing over all the memories we shared and thinking about the love that…could still exist."

Draco scoffed and sneered, but Ginny simply shook her head and let out a deep breath. She looked at Draco with a sad expression.

"Tell me Draco, your family is all but destroyed, to what do you still owe your allegiance to? Voldemort? Does killing all those people fulfill your loyalty to him? Do you even have a conscience anymore? And maybe there is no room for regrets in your life, but there are in mine. I don't regret choosing the Order over you, but I do regret you losing the innocence and conscience you once had."

"I owe allegiance to no one. I owe loyalty to no one," Draco snarled. "I do what I do because this is how my life is now. Don't try to trigger guilt in me, Weasley, there is none left. I have no conscience, and your attempt to redeem me is pathetic."

"Draco, I've made compromises for you," Ginny said. "Why can't you make any compromises for me?"

"Why should I? You are nothing to me. Are you still that naïve? You think that I would fall in love with you again, leave my life as is and live happily ever after with you? Don't be ridiculous, Weasley," Draco scoffed.

"I never said that, that was what I wanted, Draco," Ginny protested. "I just want to know if you even have a reason for what you do anymore. You wrote in those letters that you hated everything that you had to do. You couldn't stomach torture, and you were unwilling to continue. I know that the boy who wrote those letters is still there, Draco, but I think that you're too proud to change."

"I owe you no answers," Draco responded. "I told you, you're nothing to me anymore. Nothing."

All of a sudden, Ginny rushed forward to Draco, threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. Instinctively, Draco put his arms around her waist and pulled him towards her. It was just like before. She would rush into his arms, and he would automatically envelop her with his body. It seemed like despite the years and the changes that they had undergone, their bodies were still in tune with each other. Reality rushed back to Draco in an instant, and he shoved her away. At a complete loss for words, Draco immediately turned around, ripped the door open and bolted out of the room.

Ginny smiled. That would leave him with something to think about tonight. Despite all of the terrible crimes that Draco had committed, after tonight, Ginny amended her previous assumption that he was beyond redemption. If nothing else, Ginny Weasley was quite perceptive, and she could tell that tonight, Draco had forced his coldness. And though he claimed not to care about her at all, he had come here to the servants' quarters, something he most likely had never done, just to see her. Maybe, just maybe, his soul was blackened but not completely irreparable.

---

On the other side of London, Lupin and the rest of the Order sat in a small dining room.

"We haven't gotten any word from Ginny for quite two months," Lupin said gravely. "I think it's time to assume that she has failed her mission of finding information about the person who is so important to the Dark Lord. She most likely was eliminated."

Harry jumped up from his chair in a rare show of anger.

"Damn it! Don't say that!" he yelled furiously.

"Harry, we have to face facts," Hermione pleaded, putting her hand on Harry's arm, trying to calm him. "Ginny would never go so long without contacting us."

"She's right, Harry dear," Molly murmured in a resigned tone. "We can no longer keep hoping that she's still alive. We're just lying to ourselves."

"I refuse to believe she's dead," Harry snapped. "And you are all fools if you believe Ginny Weasley is gone."

The door shook on its hinges when Harry stormed out of the room. The others sighed sadly but returned to the task at hand.

"It's okay, Remus," Molly said. "You can tell them."

Remus grimaced but pulled out his quill and wrote in shaky handwriting: _Ginevra Molly Weasley – Dead._

_---_

"So, Drusilla, what was it that you had to schedule such a secretive dinner for," Snape asked, leaning back in his chair.

Drusilla smiled as she sipped a glass of red wine. Snape felt his insides churn, watching her wear such a devious smile.

"No doubt Severus you've heard of the Dark Lord's recent disproval of Draco. And no doubt you, who sees Draco as a son, would not wish any harm to befall him," Drusilla continued on without waiting for a confirmation from Snape. "I feel the same way."

Snape snorted into his wine. He had never heard of Drusilla ever _caring _about anyone else.

"Do not scoff, Severus, it is not attractive," Drusilla snapped in rare show of anger, though she immediately smoothed her features into a warm smile again. "I am not completely without emotions."

Snape simply raised an eyebrow in response.

"Well, the Dark Lord has devised a seemingly perfect plan to Draco's ruin," Drusilla informed him. "You see, he does not want to kill Draco, as you probably believed, instead he wants to break him mentally and emotionally."

Hearing this, Snape immediately sat up straighter.

"What do you mean?" he asked, frowning.

"Have I caught your interest?" Drusilla laughed. "The Dark Lord knows that Draco has many loyal followers, if he kills him, then he could cause a mutiny. Because of that, he decided that he's going to cause Draco to disappear without ever having to dirty his hands with Draco's death. Apparently, the Dark Lord has heard about a certain Miss Weasley. You do know her, don't you? No need to respond, Severus. He recalls that Draco and this Miss Weasley had a relationship in the past and hopes that they rekindle it. At first, he suggested that as soon as Draco became enamored with her again, that we should kill her and in turn break him, but…"

Drusilla trailed off, watching the expression on Snape's face closely. Realizing that Drusilla was testing his interest in this matter, Snape immediately closed off his expression.

"Stop playing games, Drusilla. They don't amuse me. Don't forget, you came to me for help," Snape told her coldly.

"Well, if you insist," Drusilla sighed dramatically, but smiled and continued. "As I was saying, he was planning on continuing with this plan, but I persuaded him otherwise. As I said, I don't wish for Draco's death. Just the opposite, my desire is that Draco replace the Dark Lord. That's why I need you to…invite a certain Mr. Potter to the Malfoy Mansion."

Snape stared at her, completely confused. Was Drusilla talking about killing the Dark Lord?

"Drusilla, do you mean-" Snape began in a dazed tone.

"Severus, I believe some things are best left unsaid, don't you?" Drusilla interrupted.

Snape quickly regained his composure. If there was one lesson he had learned over all these years, it was that he should not ever betray his thoughts.

"Fine. But what, may I ask, is the reason you wish for Potter's presence?"

"He will be presented as a choice for Miss Weasley. In the near future, Miss Weasley will be asked to make a choice, and I believe that choice will in turn catalyze a fury in Draco that will be unstoppable. I doubt Draco could handle being forsaken twice," Drusilla replied. "Before this event though, I will of course place a few well chosen words about the Dark Lord to Draco, and the chain of events will be set off. At the end, Draco will hold more power than he ever imagined."

"Why are you doing this? What's the benefit for you?" Snape asked, suspicious of her motives.

Drusilla smiled a genuine smile.

"I will have repaid a long overdue debt."

Sipping his wine, Snape contemplated the decisions at hand. No doubt Drusilla was dedicated to Draco, but was there any other reason behind her plan? How did she speak so lightly of killing the Dark Lord. Snape knew that lesser men had underestimated Drusilla and had suffered for their mistake. He would not do the same. Severus Snape would watch his back.

"Fine," Snape said after a long moment. "I accept it. But how do you plan for me to capture Potter? He's the Order's most precious member. We haven't been able to capture him in the last ten years, how are we going to do it in such a short time?"

"Oh, you didn't know that Miss Weasley purposely let Draco capture her?" Drusilla feigned surprise. "She was sending the Order little notes about us, but in the last few months she hasn't gotten any responses from them. Most likely because I've intercepted all of her notes." Drusilla let out a small chuckle, seemingly amused by her own joke.

"The Order no doubt thinks that she's dead by now, and I think that just may send a Mr. Potter into a trap. I'm counting on you to facilitate his capture." Drusilla finished.

Snape didn't answer. He simply took another sip of his wine.

---

Sitting in his study, Draco rubbed his temples while thinking about the events that had occurred earlier. Ginny was right. He had never made any compromises for her.

Why had he left to become a Death Eater? He believed at the time because he owed his life to the Malfoy name. Now that his father was dead, what was his reason? He sure as hell didn't care about the Dark Lord. Was he just being proud, as Ginny accused him of being?

Hours had passed since his meeting with Ginny, and it was late at night. Draco was tired. Completely and utterly fatigued. So weary, that he even admitted to himself that the love he shared with Ginny might still be alive. If he compromised just a little, he might be able to regain the happiness he once had.

Draco ran a hand across his lips. That kiss they had shared just a few hours ago. It had felt so natural, as if they were back at Hogwarts and trying to kiss whenever they had a chance. Ginny was able to give up her pride and tell him that she still thought about him and may still love him. What if this time, they both compromised a little?

"Flint!" Draco yelled.

Marcus Flint immediately appeared in the doorway, stifling a yawn as he tried to look alert.

"Yes, sir?"

"Get the warmest blankets we have and bring them down to the servants' quarters. Give them Ginny Weasley. Now!" Draco added as Flint stared at him with a highly confused expression.

"Yes, sir!"

Just a small compromise.

---

**Author's Note:** Wow, it's been quite a while since I last updated. Thanks to Jack Tamara for some great encouragement. I have been completely loaded down with college, but I hope I'll be able to finish this story before this year's over! Sorry about the long wait. I actually was ready with a new chapter a while ago, but I thought it was just terrible, so I scrapped it. Hope this one is better!


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Six**

Ginny gave a small yawn as she tried to snuggle deeper into her new warm covers. Marcus Flint had showed up near dawn this morning and had thrown a bundle at her. Her grogginess had evaporated into shock when she realized that the package contained several very thick blankets. Since Flint's only communication with her was a sneer, Ginny could only guess at who had cared enough to have sent her blankets. The only person she could think of was Draco. Ginny allowed herself a little smile when she thought about him. Despite his vehement claim that he cared nothing for her, Ginny suspected that Draco was lying to himself.

Glancing at the tiny clock perched precariously on the windowsill, Ginny realized that she would need to get up now if she were to be ready for another day's work. She sighed, but pushed off the warm cocoon of covers and was immediately greeted with the familiar cold that was a constant companion during her time at Malfoy Manor.

Hurriedly dressing, Ginny tied her hair into a neat bun before making her way down the cramped corridor out of the servants' quarters. As she was about to enter the main chambers, a hand clamped over her mouth as another grabbed her arm. Losing her balance, Ginny was unable to fight against her assailant and was easily dragged into a nearby closet.

When she stumbled into the closet, Ginny heard the door close behind her. Finally, her assailant lifted his hand off her nose and mouth. After the initial gasp of air, Ginny began coughing violently as her swift intake of breath had brought all the dust that had accumulated in the room into her lungs. Ginny was still wheezing when a familiar voice sounded behind her back.

"Miss Weasley, I see that you have not been completely honest with me," Snape's silky voice said behind her.

Ginny froze, her scratchy throat and burning lungs forgotten. Snape? Nothing good could come out of a sudden ambush by Snape.

"What do you want?" Ginny asked in a calm voice, trying not to betray her anxiety.

"Your so called 'mission' has failed. You've been caught, and quite easily I might add. The Order is no longer getting any more responses from you."

Ginny's heartbeat quickened. Snape knew? Would he tell Draco?

"I-" Ginny began, but was interrupted by Snape.

"No, I don't want to hear any lies or excuses. And not to worry, I won't betray your little secret. I just wanted to let you know that your hard kept secret was discovered quite a while ago. But, that's not what my purpose for this impromptu meeting." Snape stated.

"Really? Then what is it that you want from me?" Ginny asked, raising her chin.

"I just want to warn you. You'll be faced with some…hardships in the near future. Just be sure that you make the right decision at that time," Snape advised. "You have always made decisions for the wrong reasons, make sure that this one is made for the right one."

Snape then walked briskly towards the door, but before he twisted the knob, he turned around to face her.

"Remember, none of us are free. Including me."

Ginny was about to ask what he meant, but Snape had disappeared. His cryptic message confused her, but Ginny knew better than to disregard it. Even if it were a lie, there had to be a reason why Snape would tell it to her. Regardless of whether or not it was the truth, Ginny would have to figure out what it was that Snape desired of her. What frightened her the most at this moment though, was the situation surrounding Lupin's mission. She didn't know how the Death Eaters had discovered her mission, but if Snape said that he would keep it a secret, did he mean that only he knew? But that was impossible. He sought her out today, most likely because he had just discovered that she was here under Lupin's orders, so someone else must have told him. But who? It couldn't have been Draco, or he would have had her tossed back into the dungeons, so it must have been someone else.

Massaging her temples, Ginny rubbed her tired eyes and exited the closet. Ginny brushed off the dust from her robes and then continued on back to the main chambers. She had a full day of work in front of her, and unless she wished to not sleep tonight, she had better get started now. Tonight, after she finished her work, she would try to dig around for information and figure out just what kind of jeopardy she was in.

She continued on her path to Narcissa's room, where she would spend the morning keeping Draco's mother company. Oddly enough, though Ginny had disliked Narcissa when she and Draco were dating, these past couple of weeks had caused her to grow quite close to the aging woman. Narcissa had discarded that cool veneer and talked to her animatedly. Though all of their conversations revolved around Narcissa and the woman kept up her haughty attitude, Ginny appreciated the other woman's candidness.

Pushing open the heavy oak door, Ginny saw that Narcissa was already sitting by the window gazing out into the gray skies.

"Hello, Narcissa," Ginny called.

"Oh, you! I have so much to talk to you about," Narcissa gestured to a stool nearby, and Ginny obediently walked to it and sat down.

"I was most shocked today, when I saw this other red-headed girl walk into my room," Narcissa began. "Of course, I told her that I didn't want her to be here, because I didn't like her."

Ginny frowned, there were times when Narcissa confused her with her stories, because they all seemed to be nonsensical.

"So, I told her, 'Drusilla, get out!' And since I'm obviously the lady of the manor, she had no choice but to depart from my room," Narcissa sniffed. "I tell you, ever since that Weasley girl left, Draco has been parading around with Drusilla. I honestly can't understand why. I mean, of course, I never liked the Weasley girl, blood-traitor mind you, but this Drusilla-"

Ginny suddenly became alert.

"Mrs. Malfoy, who is this Drusilla?" Ginny asked slowly.

"Silly girl, I've told you so many times. She's the girl that Draco found to replace that Weasley girl. She's been here for so many years, and I hear that she is quite the Death Eater. She thinks that everyone is under her spell, but she doesn't know that I'm not!" Narcissa giggled. "I hear them say that she is so beautiful, and I suppose that she might pass off as acceptable, if not for that awful red hair!"

"So she's been by Draco's side for a long time?" Ginny asked, her voice strained.

"Oh yes, many years. Though I hear that she's not involved with him romantically, but more like a partner. Why are you smiling, child? You must learn to smile discreetly. It's not ladylike to show your teeth when you smile. Anyway, of course, I'm sure that she wishes she were romantically involved with him, who wouldn't wish to be a part of the Malfoy family, but Draco knows better. We don't even know if she's from a good family! And that terrible red hair. Could you imagine the children? Malfoys with red hair? How dreadful," Narcissa remarked.

"Yes, red hair is just ghastly," Ginny replied dryly.

"I'm glad that you're sensible enough to agree. Of course, I do have to say, I don't even know if I'll even see grandchildren. The way Draco's been acting recently! Of course I know he's busy, but he should at least come and see his mother." Narcissa suddenly paused, and a sad expression passed over her face. "I guess…I guess it is partially my fault. I don't think he ever forgave me for denying the Weasley girl. You must understand, mixing blood like that…but he did care for her, exceedingly. I of all people should understand the unpredictability of love. If I'm not mistaken, he will always love that Weasley girl."

Ginny felt sympathy for the older woman but also felt a rush of relief that Narcissa believed that Draco's feelings for her were still present. As Ginny was about to reach out to Narcissa to comfort her, Narcissa suddenly lost all signs of sadness and smiled widely at Ginny.

"Now, I was thinking that I should take breakfast. Silly girl, didn't even ask if I were hungry," Narcissa shook her head.

Ginny could only sigh. Even though these sudden mood changes were very common with Narcissa, Ginny had yet to become accustomed to them.

"Right away, ma'am," Ginny replied.

---

After spending five hours with Narcissa and then another two hours in a freezing cellar organizing wines, Ginny felt her body whimper in protest to the amount of work she had been assigned. Pausing, she sat down next to an aisle of red wines.

Just a moment, she told herself, she would rest just a moment before she would finish organizing the wines. Just a minute…

---

"Jargus, I sent for Gin- Weasley, half an hour ago, where is she?" Draco barked.

"I'm very sorry sir, but unfortunately no one has been able to find her," a very pale Death Eater simpered.

"What do you mean you can't _find _her?" Draco snarled. "It's nine o'clock at night. She should have finished all of her tasks and gone to eat dinner with the other servants. That's why I called for her. Are you stupid or just incompetent?"

Jargus physically shrank away from Draco, frightened that tonight might be his last night.

"I'm very sorry, sir, but we have checked the servants' dining halls and their quarters, but we can't find her," Jargus stuttered. "It seems if she has just disappeared."

Draco scowled, infuriated by the uselessness of the Death Eaters, but then a thought occurred to him. What if she had escaped? But that was impossible, the Malfoy Mansion was highly fortified, so neither anyone could intrude nor could any servant or prisoner escape. But, what if? Ginny Weasley had always been a highly gifted witch, what if she had found a way? If she had, he would search the entirety of England, that's what he would do. She would not get away.

"Send all the Death Eaters on a search throughout the Mansion. I want her found!" Draco roared.

The frightened Death Eater jumped at the volume of Draco's voice, before quickly hastening away. Draco himself went into a mild panic. Where could she be? Conjuring up a schedule of her activities for today, he looked through all the different tasks and their locations. Grabbing his wand, Draco apparated away.

His first stop was Narcissa's room. However, the only person in there was his mother. It was ironic really. Narcissa had once despised Ginny. She had looked at her as if she were filth on the sidewalks, but now she constantly asked for her red-headed companion.

Draco moved to his mother's side, and then took an extra second to pause by her sleeping figure. Pulling up her covers, he sighed as he looked down upon her. If only their lives had been different. Not allowing himself to linger by her side, he quickly apparated to the wine cellar, the next task on Ginny's to do list.

Appearing next to the aisle of Bordeaux wines, Draco was suddenly hit with a memory of one night many years ago.

---

"_I swear, Draco, I can't understand why you spent so many galleons on a glass of 'Bor-dox' wine," Ginny shook her head at Draco, as they sat on the rug in front of the fireplace in his room._

_Draco chuckled, before taking the bottle of wine out of her hands and settling it on the ground next to her. _

"_First of all, it's pronounced "Bor-dough" and second, because I thought it would be a good idea to get you slightly tipsy before telling you that you'll be meeting my parents tomorrow," Draco teased._

_Ginny's eyes widened to the size of saucers and then immediately shrunk to slits, as she scowled at her boyfriend._

"_We talked about it Draco, I really don't think it would be a good idea for me to meet your parents. They already don't like me."_

"_Yes, but I think that your charm will win them over, just like it did me," Draco smiled unconvincingly. "And besides, I met your parents remember?"_

"_Actually, I do remember. I remember my brothers threatening to curse you into the next millennium if you ever dared to show up on our doorstep again, and I also distinctly remember a bowl of rice pudding landing on your head, courtesy of my mother. Oh yes, and I remember that my dad then nearly lit you on fire, when he was yelling and accidentally sent one of those Muggle matches flying onto your robes," Ginny replied dryly. "And, I doubt that any type of persuading will ever convince Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy to approve of me, a mere _Weasley_."_

"_That day was quite terrible wasn't it?" Draco reminisced with a pained expression on his face. He remembered trying to put out the fire on his robes while mopping rice pudding out of his face and trying to dodge well aimed curses. "But, my point is that no matter what my parents think, I'm simply telling them that I will be with you no matter what their opinion is. I think that I owe them at least an explanation as to why I will not be marrying any other witch."_

_Pulling her into his arms, Draco kissed her on the forehead._

"_I love you Ginny. And no one can change that."_

---

Draco sighed. Staring at the row of Bordeaux wines. They had made so many promises to each other, but in the end they had broken all of them.

It was then that Draco noticed a figure lying motionless on the ground a couple aisles down. Frowning, he prepared himself to hex whoever it was lying there napping, before he realized that, that shade of red hair only belonged to one woman.

Rushing forward, he knelt down by Ginny's side, frantically shaking her by the shoulders in order to revive her.

"Damn it, Weasley, wake up! Enervate!" Draco yelled, but Ginny's eyes stayed closed.

Scooping her up, Draco disapparated, appearing in his room moments later.

Lying her gently on his bed, Draco cursed whichever Death Eater was assigned guard duty today. How could they have not realized that one of the servants was missing? Draco swore that he would find out who it was and leave the man with a warning he wouldn't forget.

"Get me a HEALER!" Draco roared.

A chorus of "Yes, sirs" and then scrambling sounded just outside his door after his voice echoed through the room.

Pulling up a chair to the bed, Draco reached out tentatively and then hesitated before he moved his hand forward to push her hair off from her forehead. He swallowed when he realized how clammy her skin was. They had worked her too much. She was so fragile, and Draco admitted to himself that he had pushed her beyond her breaking point both physically and mentally.

When a healer finally arrived, Draco was pacing around the room, unable to assume his usual cold demeanor. It had already been two hours, but Ginny still showed no signs of awakening.

The frail old man who limped into the room looked as if he were close to greeting Death himself. Draco was about to snarl at the man, but then he realized that an ancient healer was better than no healer.

The healer reached out a trembling hand to touch Ginny in order to evaluate her symptoms. After a few minutes of assessment, he mumbled something unintelligible under this breath.

"Speak up," Draco barked.

"So sorry, sir!" the old man squeaked. "I just said that the lady is dehydrated and fatigued."

"Then do something about it, don't just stand there telling me that," Draco growled, intensely irritated that the old man seemed completely incapable of doing anything.

"Unfortunately, I really can't do much for her, she simply needs much rest and water. Maybe some chicken soup," the healer replied, barely audible.

"What the hell kind of a healer are you?" Draco snarled, now on the verge of cursing the old man.

"I'm really sorry sir, no spell can reverse it, it's just that the body has to replenish-"

"Get out," Draco bit out.

The old man scurried out of the room, a shaking hand clutching his healer bag.

Staring at Ginny's pale face, Draco wondered to do. The useless healer had said that she would need soup and water. But how the bloody hell was she supposed to drink or eat when she was unconscious? Taking a deep breath, Draco decided that he would get the liquids and then figure out a way to get her to consume them.

Turning on his heel, Draco marched out of the room to fetch the necessary food. As he was approaching the kitchens, a place in the Mansion he had never been to, a soft hand latched on to his arm.

"Draco," Drusilla murmured.

"Not now, Drusilla, I'm in a rush," Draco told her, as he pulled his arm away from her.

For a moment, Drusilla looked surprised at Draco's abrupt behavior. He had never been short with her.

"But, it's important, Draco. It's about the Dark Lord," Drusilla warned.

Letting out an impatient breath, Draco raised an eyebrow, signaling her to continue.

"The Dark Lord told me that he is initiating a mass execution of the last Order members. He has had enough of their pathetic attempts at fighting and will begin a search-and-destroy program soon," Drusilla informed him.

"Yes, and why does this matter to me?" Draco asked impatiently. He didn't care who the hell died in the Order, in fact the only reason he had previously headed all the search-and-destroy programs was because he was afraid that a Death Eater would kill Ginny. At the time, he had told himself that it was simply because he wanted the honors of killing her himself.

"He's ordered the immediate killing of the Weasley family…including the youngest Weasley," Drusilla said quietly. Beneath her lowered lashes, her sharp eyes watched Draco's expression.

Draco's eyes immediately snapped to focus on Drusilla.

"I see," he responded coldly after a moment of silence.

"I just thought I could warn you before-" Drusilla began in what sounded like a sincere tone, but was interrupted.

"Thank you," Draco cut her off, before turning around and stalking off to the kitchens.

As the house elves prepared a bowl of chicken soup, which Draco had ordered to be made only with their best ingredients, Draco leaned against the wall and contemplated the dilemma he was in.

He was still in love with Ginny Weasley. He couldn't lie to himself anymore. If it were anyone else, he would not be here in the servants' quarters waiting for a bowl of soup before serving it to her like a common servant. Nor would he have panicked at her sickly state. He couldn't watch her die, but was he willing to go against the Dark Lord in order to protect her?

For the last ten years, this was the only life he knew. The only people who had played large roles in his life for the last decade were Drusilla, Snape and Voldemort. Even though they had never meant as much as Ginny had, they were constant presences. If he chose to protect Ginny, he would be forsaking the life he had grown accustomed to. If he chose to protect Ginny, he would be giving up a position of power and exchanging it for the life of a walking target of all the Death Eaters. If he chose to protect Ginny, then what the hell were the last ten years of his life for?

**Author Note: **I think that there should be just a few more chapters...hopefully.


End file.
